A Thing with Peas
by 3seconds
Summary: "Might not be peas. Might not be him." But it lodged in Sherlock's hard drive, which is odd because he's not normally fond of peas. And it wouldn't be the only time he got John and Molly mixed up... A missing scene set a few weeks before the Christmas party in ASiB.


Summary: "Might not be peas. Might not be him." But it lodged in Sherlock's hard drive, which is odd because he's not normally fond of peas. And it wouldn't be the only time he got John and Molly mixed up...

A missing scene set a few weeks before the Christmas party in ASiB.

* * *

 ** _Darkened interior of Molly Hooper's flat._** _Nighttime. There's a knock at the door. Molly appears from the bedroom, dressed in flannel pajama bottoms and a dressing gown over a t-shirt. She flicks on a light and goes to the door, leans up to peer through the viewer, then swings it open._

MOLLY _(surprised)_ : Sherlock?

SHERLOCK: Molly.

 _He lifts one eyebrow, questioningly and she stands aside and gestures for him to enter, which he does._

SHERLOCK: Hungry? There's a nice Indian restaurant just down the block.

MOLLY _(smiles with surprise, then her brows draw together)_ : Erm, that sounds lovely, but-

SHERLOCK _(cuts her off, eyeing her attire)_ : Excellent. Might be best if you put on something more appropriate.

MOLLY: Sherlock, It's nearly one in the morning.

SHERLOCK _(momentarily crest-fallen)_ : I suppose not then.

 _He takes a step further into the flat, glances around the room and spots Molly's laptop sitting open on the coffee table._

SHERLOCK: In that case, mind if I borrow your laptop?

 _Molly nods, but is clearly confused by Sherlock's unexpected visit. Crossing the room, Sherlock shrugs out of his coat, sits on the sofa and picks up the laptop, tapping the power button._

MOLLY: Don't you have your own computer?

SHERLOCK: It's at Baker Street. I was at Bart's.

MOLLY _(still confused)_ : All evening? Even so, your flat is closer to Bart's.

SHERLOCK: John is there.

MOLLY _(shaking her head, trying to make sense of the conversation)_ : And?

SHERLOCK _(pointedly)_ : And, he's not alone.

MOLLY: Ooh... Right. John's new girlfriend...the erm, teacher, is it?

SHERLOCK _(tapping the keyboard)_ : Yes, the dull, annoying teacher.

 _He stretches out the word 'teacher' lip curling slightly as he says it, so Molly changes the subject._

MOLLY: Have you spent all evening investigating that poor woman with the shellfish allergy? _(when Sherlock doesn't respond, she continues, but talking low, almost to herself)_ Simple anaphylaxis. Why would it need Sherlock Holmes to investigate?

SHERLOCK _(without looking up from the laptop screen)_ : Janet Wiscarson. Yes. Solved it.

 _Molly chews her lip, briefly lost in thought, as Sherlock taps the computer keys._

MOLLY _(hopefully)_ : So you really did fancy a bite? You weren't just hoping to stake out the restaurant or something?

SHERLOCK _(still distractedly tapping away at the keyboard)_ : MmHmm... Got any crisps?

 _Molly presses her lips together, thinking, and silently disappears into the kitchen._

* * *

 ** _Fifteen minutes later._** _Sherlock is still seated with the laptop in front of him. Molly reappears, holding two steaming bowls and forks. She winds around the corner of the sofa and places the bowls down on the table beside where Sherlock is working, then sits beside him and leans over to look at what he's doing on the computer._

MOLLY _(eyes growing wide as she notices what's on the screen)_ : That-that's my Bart's log-in! What are you...how did you get into that? I'll catch hell if anyone-

SHERLOCK: You really shouldn't use your cat's _(making air quotes)_ 'birthday' as your password.

MOLLY _(becoming agitated and reaching for the computer)_ : Sherlock! Give it over. I don't know what you think you're on about...

 _Sherlock shifts the laptop away from her grasp and hits the enter key._

SHERLOCK _(smiling)_ : There. All done. No reason to worry, Molly. I ran the lab tests myself, so you can be assured they're accurate. The physical results are waiting on your desk. I just needed the official report filed tonight. Dimmock and Lestrade both keep nattering on about admissible evidence... I've merely expedited the process.

 _He sets the laptop down and waves a hand victoriously at the screen as Molly reaches out and grabs it, pulling it onto her lap protectively to study what Sherlock has just done. She hunches her shoulders, and sighs in disappointment._

MOLLY: So this was only about the report. Couldn't it have waited until morning? _(her tone softens as she reads further down the report on the screen)_ Hold on... If you're investigating, it wasn't a simple accident?

SHERLOCK: Nope. Deliberately murdered.

MOLLY ( _anger dissipating as her interest is piqued)_ : Was it to do with the fibers I found in her mouth?

SHERLOCK _(looks up mildly impressed, then happily begins explaining in rapid fire fashion)_ : Yes! From the husband's handkerchief. He claimed he used it to wipe out her mouth after he found her choking on her own vomit. When, in fact, it had been saturated with crab juice. Most likely shoved into her mouth while she was sleeping off the effects of imbibing too much wine with her dinner. He was lying when he said neither of them knew she was allergic . She was well aware, had been in hospital once as a child, after eating prawns. HE was the one who brought home, and ate the take-away crab cakes, while Janet Wiscarson only ate salad and bread for dinner.

Molly _(nodding)_ : which is why I didn't find any actual crab meat in her stomach...

SHERLOCK _(gives her a nod)_ : Not to mention that Janet had recently inherited an impressive sum of money from her father. Matthew Wiscarson transferred most of it out of their joint account two days ago and his mistress purchased two one-way plane tickets to Kiev earlier today. Their flight leaves in a little under eight hours, which gives Dimmock just enough time to procure a warrant and go pick him up. The mistress too. She was in on it.

 _Sherlock leans back against the sofa cushions, looking pleased with himself._

MOLLY _(sets the laptop back on the table, torn between admiration and annoyance)_ : Well then, that's erm...okay, I guess. _(Sherlock looks momentarily affronted, and she hurries on)_ Good that you solved it, I mean... But you should have just asked me to help. I'd have stayed late if you needed me to.

 _Sherlock doesn't reply. His attention shifts to the bowl sitting next to the laptop. He leans forward and sniffs at it but doesn't pick it up._

SHERLOCK: You...made...food?

MOLLY _(blushing under the full weight of Sherlock's gaze)_ : Well, you did say you were peckish. It's ok, I hope?

 _Sherlock picks up his bowl, sniffs it again and looks at it, but doesn't pick up the fork, clearly unsure how to react to the idea of actually eating something Molly has cooked. He turns and studies Molly intensely enough to make her squirm and pick up her own bowl just to have something to do._

SHERLOCK: I didn't know you could cook.

MOLLY _(nervously):_ I used to cook all the time for my dad. Not much point in doing it just for myself now. _(gesturing towards her bowl)_ Risotto with peas and prawns. It's one of my favorite recipes. I learnt it from Jamie Oliver. Oh God! You're not allergic to shellfish are you? Not that I have any handkerchiefs to hand.

 _Molly lets out a nervous giggle and the corners of Sherlock's mouth twitch in an almost laugh at her macabre joke._

 _Instead, he picks up his fork and takes a very small bite, chewing experimentally. Molly visibly sags with relief and takes a bite from her own bowl. Sherlock tries another bite, swallows and then turns to Molly, frowning._

SHERLOCK: Molly, are you dating another gay man named James?

MOLLY _(sputtering and nearly choking on her risotto)_ : What?! No, he isn't. I... No. Sherlock, Jamie Oliver is a celebrity chef. He does cooking shows on BBC.

SHERLOCK: Oh, of course. Crap telly.

MOLLY: It's not crap if you learn something useful, is it?

 _Sherlock shrugs noncommittally, forking in another mouthful._

MOLLY: So you like it? I could make it for you again.

SHERLOCK: It's... not bad. Next time, perhaps leave off the peas.

 _Molly nods and smiles to herself. Sherlock takes two more bites, sets the half-empty bowl on the table and stands. He grabs his coat as Molly hurries to move the laptop out of the way and set down her own bowl. By the time Molly gets to her feet, Sherlock is already swinging the front door open._

SHERLOCK: Have a good night, Molly. _(turning back to look at her from the doorway)_ Thanks for dinner.

* * *

 _ **John and Mary's Wedding.** Several years later._

SHERLOCK: And John's great, too! Haven't said that enough. Barely scratched the surface. I could go on all night about the depth and complexity of his... jumpers... and he can cook. Does... a... thing... thing with peas ...once. Might not be peas. Might not be him. But he's got a great singing voice... or somebody does.

* * *

Author's Note: The recipe Molly makes is one I really did learn from Jamie Oliver's show, _The Naked Chef_ , some years ago. You can find the recipe on Jamie Oliver's website if you're interested. (Full disclosure: I fudged the cooking time in the fic, it actually takes about 30 minutes, but that seemed entirely too long for Sherlock to type up a report. So maybe Molly had the cooked risotto already on hand as a left-over or something.) Enjoy!


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